Genevieve’s Point of View There was a comfortable silence as we ate, even though the man sitting across from me was a total stranger. I couldn’t help but secretly steal glances at him, hoping he’d speak up and tell me how or where he knew me. “Do you like the food?” he asked, breaking the silence. I nodded. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Do you remember ten years ago, at Joan’s Groove?” His question caught me off guard, and I coughed lightly as I choked on my food. “Easy,” he said, handing me a glass of water. Joan’s Groove! No, don’t tell me he’s the one! “Are you okay?” he asked. “Yeah,” I replied. “… You promised to come with me to my home and act as my wife, but after you signed the wedding certificate, you vanished.” My memory refreshed instantly. Ten years ago, I had just lost my dad and was feeling too sad. My friend took me to a club to loosen up a bit. There, I got drunk and was almost r***d by a p*****t, but luckily, Enzo showed up and rescued me. To repay his favor, I promised to do anything for him. His father was pestering him to get married at that time, so he made a deal with me. He had an already-made wedding certificate. I filled in my name, and we both signed it, but sadly, after that, I lost contact with him because my phone was stolen that night. “I gave you my number. Why didn’t you contact me after that night?” “I’m sorry,” I could only apologize. He narrowed his eyes, as if expecting an explanation. “A lot happened after that night, and I couldn’t reach you because I lost my phone,” I explained briefly. He stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded. “It was a fifteen-year contract. We still have five years left,” he said. “What?” My eyes widened in shock. I was too drunk that night. I didn’t even read the document before signing it—I only knew I signed a wedding certificate. “Yes. My father is still urging me to this day to bring my wife home.” He paused and looked me in the eyes. “Would you, please, go with me to my parents’?” His voice was so soft that I found myself blushing hard. I quickly cleared my throat and agreed to his request. “Thank you,” he smiled at me. “Eat up.” Right at that moment, Cora rushed in with a worried expression. “Mrs. Enzo, a woman is making a scene outside, claiming she’s your mother and wants to see you,” she reported. “Er, Cora?” “Yes, Mrs. Enzo?” “Can you stop addressing me as Mrs. Enzo?” I requested politely. Hearing her address me as ‘Mrs. Enzo’ felt weird, especially since I’m not so familiar with her boss. “Why?” Enzo asked. “You’re my wife. What other title should she address you by if not Mrs. Enzo?” I wanted to argue, but I got butterflies in my stomach as he said that. I guess I was secretly waiting for his confirmation. “Or do you prefer Mrs. Raffaele?” he asked, and I shook my head quickly. “Mrs. Enzo is fine,” I replied shyly before facing Cora. “Bring me to her.” “Sure.” I looked at Enzo for permission, but he simply said, “You don’t need my permission for anything, baby. You’re free to do anything here. You’re the queen of this empire.” My brows furrowed as confusion overwhelmed me. Isn’t our marriage based on a contract? Why would he make his contracted wife the queen of his empire? Pushing my thoughts aside, I got up and followed Cora. ****** “Mom!” I called out the moment I stepped outside. My mother was struggling against four bulky guards, telling them to let go of her daughter—me. She was even threatening to report them to the authorities for k********g if they didn’t let me out. “Mom, I’m fine,” I assured her as she rushed towards me. “Thank goodness,” she sighed, pulling me into a brief hug. “I got a call from Kelvin. He said a man took you and his father away.” “Oh… How did you find his location, though?” I asked. “When I arrived at Fred’s home, his men told me that you both weren’t kidn*pped but were taken away by the new Mafia boss, and… I came.” I wanted to ask how she knew the address, but I realized she must have gotten it from Fred’s men. “Let’s go farther from these people and talk,” I said, leading her away from Enzo’s guards to a garden a few meters ahead. “Kelvin said the man called you his wife. Why did he say you’re his wife? What is going on?” she bombarded me with questions. Knowing it was a long story, I helped her sit on a bench in the garden and sat beside her. I pushed a few strands of hair behind my ear, then briefed her on everything that had happened. “So, are you willing to stay and play the role of his wife?” she asked after listening to me. I nodded. “Yes. I made a promise, and I must honor it.” My mother stayed silent for a while. I thought she’d scold me for being impulsive and making decisions on impulse, but she simply smiled at me, as if she understood me. “You’re an adult. I won’t go against your decisions, but please, consider your late sister.” Her eyes watered at the mention of my stepsister. “She died when Kelvin was only seven, making him motherless. I know you were there for him but…” She raised her head slightly as she tried to blink her tears away. “…let’s not make the bo y an orphan at such a tender age,” she pleaded. Mom is right. But the problem is—would Enzo let Fred go?